


Revenge

by GeorginoschkaVincen



Category: One Piece
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-14 17:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8022229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorginoschkaVincen/pseuds/GeorginoschkaVincen
Summary: Everyone has their own reason to join the battle of Marineford.Rocinante is here for Crocodile. Doflamingo just wants revenge.





	1. And so it begins

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago,I had a conversation with ThisisVenereVeritas about an AU where Rocinante survived and managed to flee together with Law while Doflamingo got caught by Tsuru. Rocinante and Law ended up in Alabasta,where they encountered Crocodile. Doflamingo was tortured but Vergo and his crew managed to help Doflamingo . 
> 
> You can read the part ThisisVenereVeritas wrote here  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/4756571/chapters/10874909
> 
> You do not need to read it to understand this story, but it is a very good fanfic. I recommend reading it.
> 
> I have about 5 Chapters planned, however, I do not know where this story might take me.

“Today you might die.” Daz pointed out casually. He was calm, as if there was nothing to it.

 

They would reach Marineford today, where the battle would take place. The execution of Ace, son of the king of pirates, had to be stopped. Whitebeard was on the move, and so where countless others. There was no doubt that the kid named Luffy would be there,too. Rocinante had never met him in person, but Law had told him all there was to know. Luffy seemed like a kid that brought a lot of trouble with him. Rocinante was not too keen to get involved in any trouble, but it was probably already too late for that. Trouble seemed to stick to Rocinante. Somehow he never managed to get rid of it.

Rocinante was not interested in the fate of pirates, yet he found himself drawn to the place he once had known so well, a place he thought he would never set a foot upon again.

  
“Nah, I don't think so,” Rocinante responded with reassuring smile, his fingers pressing down hard on the cigarette that was resting between his index-finger and thumb, betraying his cool facade. “but I guess we have to take the risk. Also it's not like we had anything else planned for today anyway, right?”  
  
Rocinante was a little nervous, but he overplayed it well. He was a good actor if he wanted to be.  
  
There was silence. Only the seagulls and the soft melody of the sea was to be heard. In the distance they could see other ships. They all moved into one direction.  
  
After a short pause, Rocinante added, “I would,though. I would, for him.”  
  
His voice was soft as he said that, and he smiled slightly.  
  
Rocinante was not going to Marineford because he wanted to rescue Ace. That kid was none of his business.  
  
No, there was someone else who needed a little help from escaping that place.  
  
Rocinante watched as the ash from his cigarette flew up into the air, carried away by the wind higher and higher up until it was gone.  
  
His heart ached.  
  
He had not seen Crocodile in a while. A year, maybe two. Or had it just been a few months? Rocinante found that he could not remember the last time he had seen Crocodile.  
  
And now Crocodile had managed to get himself arrested.  
  
Rocinante took a deep breath. He could smell nothing else but the salty air of the sea. The smoke from his cigarette was blown away by the wind.  
  
There were only two people Rocinante was willing to risk dying for; one of them was Crocodile, the other one was Law.  
  
However, Law was all grown up now, sailing the seas with his very own pirate crew. Rocinante did not need to die protecting Law from harm; Law was able to protect himself, and while Rocinante still did not approve of the pirate´s life he at least was accepting that it was the path Law had chosen for himself.  
  
Adventure, it was what was calling out to Law. It had lured him to sail the seas . Rocinante was not in any place do deny him anything, especially anything concerning Law´s freedom. Law was free to choose his own path.  
  
And,yes; Rocinante knew that Crocodile was no one who needed help with protecting himself from harm either, that he was a grown man and very well able to defend himself. Rocinante knew that Crocodile would probably scowl at him, that he would point out how he did not need to be rescued, least of all by Rocinante. It was Crocodile's pride that stopped him from admitting that a little help was not so bad.  
  
Crocodile was just not really good at admitting that he needed a little help once in a while, especially if he had to ask Rocinante for it. Somehow Crocodile was particularly stubborn when he had to admit that he needed help from Rocinante. Rocinante still did not know why that was.  
  
Rocinante looked back to Daz who was smiling slightly as if approving of Rocinante's words.  
  
Daz was a good man, Crocodile's best. Rocinante knew him well. All the years he and Law had spent with Crocodile in Alabasta had been enough time to get to know Crocodile and his crew, and Rocinante had come to like Daz. Robin had been nice,too. He had liked talking to her.  
  
Rocinante wondered were Robin was right now. Maybe they would see her again today.  
  
“I am glad you came to help us.” Daz said. He was still looking at Rocinante. It felt a bit as if he was searching for something in Rocinante's gaze.  
  
“Well, I have to admit that I kind of feel responsible for the old man.” Rocinante admitted with a honest but tired smile. He had not had a full night's sleep for a while. The nightmares had been bad the past few nights, and they felt like a bad omen hovering over Rocinante's mind like a dark angry cloud.  
  
“I am gone, out to sail the seas, and Crocodile manages to get himself arrested because I was not able to talk him out of his 'oh so great' plan. I told him it would end badly, didn't I?”  
  
Daz shrugged. Then he nodded. “I guess you did, yes.”  
  
“I did. Ah, but he didn't listen to me back then,” Rocinante huffed “he always did what he wanted, didn't he? Of course he did. He should have listened. I guess I'm not so good with words.” Rocinante took a deep drag from his cigarette before he muttered,“the worst is that it probably serves him right. Being in prison, I mean.”  
  
Crocodile was a pirate after all.  
  
The way Crocodile had been treating Alabasta and its people had been terrible,and Rocinante had not agreed with his politics at all. There had been countless arguments, but Crocodile would not listen. In the end that had been the reason why Rocinante had decided that he would not stay with Crocodile, not until the other gave up his hold on Alabasta. Neither of them had given in yet. They were just too different in that matter.  
  
Crocodile had not changed his plan, and Rocinante had not come back. Rocinante had accepted the fact that he would probably never get to live at Crocodile's side.  
  
Rocinante should not feel the way he did for a pirate, especially not for Crocodile, and yet here he was...  
  
Rocinante cursed a little as he tried to put out the small flames that tried to eat the collar of his shirt. He had not payed attention and had lowered his hand with the cigarette a little too low.  
  
“And yet here you are, helping us to get him out now that we might actually have the chance to get in.” Daz said, as if he knew exactly what Rocinante was thinking. Daz chuckled a little and watched Rocinante as he tried, and succeeded, to put out the fire.  
  
Somewhere above them a seagull was screaming loudly. Maybe it was hungry.  
  
Rocinante's shirt smelled a little burned now.  
  
“Someone has to get him out,” Rocinante sighed deeply. The next words he added were just a soft whisper that was almost swallowed by the wind and the sea, never to be heard. “I suppose I do love him after all.”  
  
Rocinante turned his eyes back to the sea , and not for one moment did he doubt his decision to help getting Crocodile out of Impel Down. He should not feel so sure about committing a crime.  
  
Daz knew that Rocinante meant it when he said he was ready to fight for Crocodile. And so was Daz. They all were.  
  
“Don't we all.” Daz answered. Rocinante was sure those words were not directed at him. He did not answer.  
  
To think that he was willing to die for a pirate... Rocinante's throat clenched a little.  
  
Things sure had changed.  
  
“Sengoku will be mad.” Rocinante mumbled to himself. His hands felt cold. He had not seen Sengoku in years. He was not ready to see him today.  
  
Rocinante threw away the cigarette into the sea and wondered if Law would be there today. He really hoped Law would not be there. The kid was already head over heels in more trouble than was good for him.

* * *

 

“He will be there.”  
  
Quiet,careful words. Softly spoken, like a gentle touch.

One step forward, another step forward.

A pause.  
  
A deep breath.  
  
“He will be there. You know that, don't you?”  
  
His words met a wall of silence. Of course they did. He had expected nothing else.  
  
“Doffy -” he paused to bite his lower lip and stopped himself from reaching out to touch the sharp shoulder dressed in a red suit. Vergo hated that colour. It reminded him of that dreadful day all those years ago, the day they had lost their captain to the marines.

The day they had been betrayed...

Vergo was sure Doflamingo hated that colour,too. Yet he was wearing it. Vergo wondered why. He assumed because Doflamingo would set off to Marineford soon.

Anger was welling up inside of Vergo as the memory of the day of the betrayal came back, and he clenched his hands into fists until it hurt.  
  
“I can take care of him for you, if you want.” he offered. “I'll make sure that he regrets it.”  
  
He wanted to take care of it. He wanted to be the one making sure that Rocinante would regret being alive.  
  
Sometimes Vergo wondered if his hurt and anger concerning Rocinante's betrayal was deeper than it should be. However, every time he looked at Doflamingo, at his pale face and his stiff form, his scared hands and his broken body...every time Doflamingo winced when a door was closed with too much force, when someone approached him too fast,when voices were too loud or light too bright....every time Vergo was reminded of the torture that had been inflicted upon his captain and the anger and hatred for Rocinante, that traitor, came crashing back, punching him hard into the stomach and leaving him almost breathless with rage.  
  
“You shouldn't get your hands dirty,” Vergo hissed. “not because of _him_. He is not worth it.”  
  
The traitor was not worth anything.

Doflamingo had been looking at nothing, his one good eye unfocused as he was lost in his own world, his fingers restlessly playing with the top button of his suit, but as soon as Vergo had finished his sentence he turned his head to look at him. Vergo could barely see the expression on Doflamingo's face thanks to the shadows of the dark room.  


Doflamingo's face was a cold mask and rarely was there any emotion to be seen on it. The wide trademark grin, once so easily displayed, was now entirely gone. Vergo was probably the only person who knew that there was still so much more going on inside Doflamingo than the other showed.  
  
Doflamingo preferred to be in control of things. Or at least he wanted to appear as if he was at least in control of himself and his emotions. Vergo knew better.  
  
Doflamingo had changed a lot. Torture did things to a man, and even Doflamingo had not been strong enough to endure it without being broken. And,oh, he had been broken, so broken... almost beyond repair.  
  
Vergo had been - still was and would always be - there in those nights when Doflamingo was having a break down. Vergo was there when the control was gone, when Doflamingo woke up from another nightmare, another bad memory, covered in sweat and gasping for air and crying so hard that he could not breath. Vergo was there when Doflamingo smashed things in rage, cursing Rocinante with every wheezing breath of his weak lungs until he stopped and started shaking all over, unable to stand on his own legs. Vergo was there when Doflamingo could not get up and out of bed because he was in too much pain, his whole body hurting as if it was on fire, and Vergo was there to get Doflamingo the so much needed drugs to calm him down and fill his mind with just a little bit of peace and quiet.  
  
Yes, Vergo was always there and would always be there, right where Doflamingo needed him. He did his best to help, had done his best to fix the broken pieces and put them back together into the rough shape of a man who once had been a king.  
  
Still was a king.  
  
Who would be king again, proud and strong and confident, with pride in every step he took closer and closer to another victory. Vergo would be at his side.  
  
Broken Doflamingo was, but not defeated; Doflamingo's rage was endless. It kept him going, kept him strong enough to fight. Doflamingo was stronger than he ever had been, and Vergo knew better than to assume that Doflamingo needed protection, for pity was the last thing Doflamingo wanted or needed.  
  
Vergo knew that it was a dangerous game they were playing, and even all the love Vergo had for Doflamingo was not enough to fill the emptiness, to fill the hole, that Rocinante's betrayal and the torture of the marines had ripped into his captain, into his king. And it hurt, knowing that he would never be able to heal the man he loved so much more than anyone else.

Vergo would give his life if it meant Doflamingo would be whole again. However, Vergo knew that he was everything to Doflamingo, probably one of the very few things that was keeping Doflamingo together. Vergo and the family, that was all Doflamingo had and wanted. Losing Vergo, or anyone else, was the last thing Doflamingo wanted right now, or ever again.

“Vergo.” Doflamingo suddenly said, his voice calm and raspy from rarely using it anymore. Vergo looked at him, a bit surprised, since he had expected the other to call him by his title; Corazón. Doflamingo only ever used his name when they both were in private, never when they talked about matters of business. Then again, this was probably a private matter.

Doflamingo took one of Vergo's hands, which were still clenched into fists, and opened it with gloved fingers that were so gentle and careful that it was hard to imagine they belonged to a man like Doflamingo. He used his thin index-finger to gently touch the back of Vergo's fingers, then the palm of his hand. Vergo watched him. It felt nice.  
  
Doflamingo never touched anyone, never wanted anyone to touch him. He would wince, would withdraw. Sometimes he would scream.  
  
A small touch, even if it was just the brush fingers against the top of Vergo's hand, meant more than anything else to Vergo. Of course there where other times, when Doflamingo was just rage and anger, where he wanted more than just a gentle kiss, but those days were rare. Vergo was glad about that. He did not like it when Doflamingo tried to drown his feelings and memories with actions he would regret later the next day.  
  
Yes, there were bad days, and not so good days, and worse days, and the really bad ones, but when Doflamingo came to Vergo, asking for an embrace or a quick kiss...a gentle touch...  
  
Those were the not so bad days.  
  
“Do not let anger take control. Not this time.”  
  
Doflamingo looked up from Vergo's hand to give him an intense look, one that made Vergo shiver a little. It was so hard to tell what Doflamingo was thinking these days and even Vergo did not always know what his captain had in mind.  
  
“There will be enough time for you to get your revenge. I promised you, and I did not forget.” Doflamingo let go of Vergo's hand again. Vergo saw the small hint of a grin on Doflamingo's lips, a bitter and joyless grin, nothing like the big toothy smile that Vergo missed so much. It did not reach Doflamingo's eyes and it looked all wrong.  
  
Then Doflamingo straightened his back and leaned upwards, his head turned to the closed window that was hidden beneath thick curtains.

It was time to leave.  


 


	2. Battlefield

It turned out Crocodile had not needed their help to get out of Impel Down.  
  
They arrived and the battle had already begun. Crocodile was fighting side by side with people that Rocinante had only heard of but never met in person. It was hard to tell if Rocinante would be able to reach Crocodile anytime soon.  
  
This was madness. Pirates and marines everywhere. Rocinante did not know what side he was supposed to fight for, if he was supposed to fight at all.  
  
Long ago he had left the marines behind. However, that did not mean that he was willing to fight for the pirates. He was no pirate after all. Was not. Would never be.  
  
Rocinante bit down on his cigarette and cursed. It was his fifth. In the back of his head Rocinante could hear Law's voice, scolding him because smoking was bad for his health and he had promised to stop years ago.

 

He threw away the cigarette, then he loaded his gun.  
  
Rocinante decided that this was not about what side he was on. It did not matter who he was or what he was fighting for; surviving the war was what counted. Finding Crocodile was what counted.

 

 _Crocodile..._  
  
Rocinante had lost sight of him already.

 

Rocinante had thought this would be easy; getting in and out without being noticed, that was what he was good at. He was not made for the open battlefield. He was rather an assassin than a soldier.  
  
Their goal had been to get Crocodile out of Impel Down. They had had a plan. It would have been so easy, with the distraction of the battle, with all eyes upon Ace, son of the pirate king...  
  
But it was not easy, of course it was not. Instead of being able to slip out unnoticed with Crocodile at his side Rocinante was now forced to fight in a war he never meant to get involved in, a war that was not of his concern. Or maybe it was. It seemed that this war would have a far bigger impact on the world than any of them had anticipated.  
  
Rocinante found himself all tangled up in the strings of a fate that was not his own, unable to escape. As clumsy as he was it was no surprise that he stumbled from one disaster into the next.  
  
Today would be one of the worst.  
  
Soon enough, Rocinante's side had been picked for him. Without a marine uniform he was a pirate to the marine, and the pirates did not care for him as long as he did not attack any of them. Technically, he was a pirate. Just for today.  
  
Rocinante, in disguise once more...  
  
It left a bitter taste in Rocinante's mouth, the thought that he had to play pirate one more time. The last time it had not ended well. He could only hope that this time would be better.  
  
Rocinante tried not too care all too much about this. His goal was reach Crocodile. As soon as Rocinante was at Crocodile's side they would be able to discuss what was about to happen next. If they ever managed to exchange a few words over the noise of the battle...  
  
Luckily, Rocinante had his powers to help out with that.  


It did not take long until he was out of bullets.

  
Rocinante stumbled through the battle, his powers almost useless in an open space like this. He was almost hit by a bullet and only barely avoided it by taking a step aside and managed to stumble over a dead body instead, almost broke his neck falling over another. Soon enough his hands and knees were dirty with mud and sand and blood. Rocinante could not really tell if it was his own blood or the blood of others. He tried to ignore the horrible thoughts coming back to haunt him.  
  
  
He lost his gun at some point. Probably during one of his falls. What a pitty, it had been a good gun.  
  
People offered him a hand and helped him up to his feet once or twice after he had stumbled over his own feet or another body lying on the ground. Pirates that he had never met before, that he did not recognize from wanted posters or stories, were there to make sure he was alright.  
  
Rocinante wondered if they knew him, somehow, but that seemed impossible. Pirates had only ever known him as Corazón,and that had been a long time ago, and Crocodile was no man who talked much about his private life. Neither was Law. Maybe Rocinante was just lucky today.

  
The pirates never questioned what he was doing here, or who he was fighting for. They just figured he fought alongside them. Why else would he be here, joining this madness?  
  
Rocinante was pulled out of his thoughts by someone nearly stabbing him with a sword. He managed to dodge it, and continued his way through the battlefield.  
  
Rocinante managed to pick up two guns from two defeated soldiers, a sword from an unconcious pirate. He was very well able to defend himself, had fought more fights in his life than most people assumed he had.  
  
Rocinante was clumsy, but that did not mean he was not skilled. Even Crocodile did not know of the things Rocinante had done, or was capable to do. Rocinante liked to keep it that way.  
  
The air was cold thanks to the wind from the sea. The seagulls were screaming, but not louder than the battle cries of the humans fighting below them.

 

Rocinante was out of bullets again sooner than he had thought. He cursed silently and was almost about to reach for another cigarett but stopped himself from reaching into his pocket. Now was not the time for another smoke.  
  
Rocinante decided to throw away the guns so he could grasp the sword in both hands. He took a deep breath and tried to stay calm.  
  
“You can do this.”  
  
He still could not see Crocodile.  
  
Rocinante could not tell how long he had been running around on the battlefield. His arms felt heavy as he tried to hold the sword upright and exhaustion was starting to kick in. The hours of missed sleep were now taking their toll on him.  
  
He had lost count of the marines that had tried to stop him. Rocinante had tried to not hurt them too badly, and had avoided killing them while he got them out of his way. He was not too fond of killing people. He only did that when there was no other option. Or when he was really mad.

 

Rocinante stumbled as someone kicked him, a solid kick right into the side. He had not seen it coming, and so he lost his footing. He let go of the sword as he hit the ground, an attempt to soften the impact of his fall with his hands, but it still hurt. The sword flew over the ground and out of his reach. He did not see where it landed.

 

Maybe it would have been smarter to wait on the ship until the fight was over. Maybe it would have been smarter not to come at all. He should have never gotten involved in this fight.  
  
Rocinante quickly turned around, still sitting on the floor, now facing a marine solider. He was in his twenties and pointing a gun at Rocinante, ready to shoot. He looked a bit scared. Rocinante was almost sure the guy had never been in a real battle before, probably not even on his first mission.  
  
It all happened really fast.

 

Rocinante lurched forward the same time the marine was trying to shoot him. The bullet missed Rocinante's head, barely, and Rocinante managed to tackle the man down by grabbing his legs. They both ended up on the ground, with Rocinante pressing his hand against the man´s head.  
  
“Infinite Silence!” Rocinante gasped, pressing his hand harder against the man's head. He could feel his powers unfold in the head beneath his hand, the thoughts being swallowed by a wave of silence.  
  
Most people would not believe how frightening it was if there was nothing but silence, not only around them but also in their head. Rocinante had learned long ago how easy it was to drive people mad with nothing but silence.  
  
The man underneath him gasped. Rocinante let go of him, hastily getting to his feet while clutching his hurting side. He winced and hoped nothing was broken, but then again, he had lived through worse.  
  
The man was still lying on the ground, now grabbing his head, his eyes wide. He moved his lips, bit no word came out. He was not able to speak, no sentence that made sense would leave his lips until the silence was gone.  
  
“Try forming a word when there is nothing left in your head but silence,” Rocinante mumbled to himself. He felt guilty, but the silence would pass. He just wanted to get away far enough out of reach, that was all. “Sorry.”

 

A shadow fell upon him. Rocinante turned around, realizing that he had no weapon left to defend himself.  
  
Then he froze.

 

Daz´ words rang in Rocinante´s ears now, playing on repeat like a broken record over and over again

 

_Today you might die. Today you might die. Today you might die. Today you might-_

 

Rocinante felt as if his blood was frozen in his veins. His whole body was shaking but that had nothing to do with the harsh wind that was tugging at his hair and his clothes. He stared up at the man hovering in the air a few feet above him, his features shadowed by the sun but the shape of his coat so unmistakable that there was no doubt about who he was.  
  
Rocinante's heart was pounding in his chest and he could not hear anything else but the rush of blood in his ears. His knees were shaking and he felt sick, but he could not look away, he could not move.

 

A pink feather was pulled loose by the wind and flew towards Rocinante, until it was blown up by the wind and disappeared into the sky.

  
“No,” Rocinante whispers. “Not you.”  
  
He had imagined many scenarios, many ways of how their first meeting after the betrayal would come to pass. Rocinante had been a fool for believing he could get away from this fight unnoticed by his brother. He had known, he had known his brother would be here as well, and yet he had hoped to be able to avoid him.  


Rocinante´s biggest concern had been Crocodile, not Doflamingo, and that had probably been a mistake.

  
He had been a fool.  
  
He should not have come here.  
  
Doflamingo looked down upon him, and like a god he gracefully lowered himself from the sky until he stood eye to eye with Rocinante. The shadows had left his face so that Rocinante was now able to look at his brother.  
  
Doflamingo had changed.  
  
Doflamingo´s face was sharper than before,his cheekbones clearly visible beneath pale skin that looked as if it had not seen the sun in years. Rocinante could see faint scars running down Doflamingo´s neck. They were disappearing beneath the black shirt.  
  
There was one deep scar over Doflamingo´s left eye, Rocinante breafly wondered if he was blind on that eye. Rocinante could very well imagine that dark circles were prominent under Doflamingo's eyes, hidden beneath red glasses that his brother had already been wearing during the time where Rocinante had been a part of the Donquixote Pirates.  
  
Rocinante could not see much more of Doflamingo, everything was hidden by the fabric of the red suit ,beneath pink feathers and dark leather of gloves, but Rocinante was sure that the rest of Doflamingo's body was even more scared and broken than Rocinante own body.  
  
His brother looked almost fragile and ...sick, and yet...Doflamingo appeared just as dangerous as before.

Rocinante did not feel sorry for him.  
  
The wind was howling.  
  
Rocinante swallowed hard. His throat felt dry.  
  
Doflamingo´s hair was golden in the faint light of the sun, and it almost looked like a halo against the dark clouds that were gathering in the sky above them. Soon it would rain. The light was already fading.

The battle around them suddenly seemed so far away. It seemed unreal, like a bad dream.  
  
Rocinante realized that he was not afraid, that this time he would not run. He had been running once, had been running since, and he would not be able to run from this again. He did not want to run again.

Rocinante straightened his back, took a deep breath, unclenched his fists.

He was ready to fight. He had been running from this far too long.  
  
Rocinante had no weapon, except for his powers. Both of the brothers new that Doflamingo was stronger than Rocinante, had always been stronger.  
  
  
Rocinante wondered if he would die today. It almost felt certain.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was not too much happening here. A bit more action in the next one, I promise


	3. Doflamingo

 

“I do not regret what happened,” Rocinante said, with a voice that was steadier than he felt. The wind blew Rocinante's hair into his eyes, but he did not dare to lift his hand to push it out of his face.“It was the only way, the only way of stopping you. I tried, I really did try to see some good in you, but there was nothing left.”   
  
He took a deep breath. There was so much more he wanted to say,but the words were stuck in his throat. “The last bit of something good inside of you died with our father.”

 

Rocinante had always been able to find the right words whenever he had imagined a conversation between the two of them. However, right now he felt like a small child again, unable to voice what was on his mind. There was so much to say, so much he wanted to say, but he could not do it.  He saw his brother and all the words were stuck in his throat.  
  
All that was left was silence.  
  
Rocinante felt like crying. Not because he was sad but because he felt...helpless?  
  
Angry, maybe.  
  
Or frustrated.  
  
He was standing here,on a battlefield he did not belong to, and had no words left for the man he once called brother. Maybe because there were no words that could describe what he was feeling.

 

Why was he even trying to explain himself ? Doflamingo did not care anyway, and Rocinante did not owe him an explanation.  
  
And most of all Rocinante did not owe Doflamingo an apology.  
  
“Do you hate me?” Doflamingo suddenly asked. Those were his first words to Rocinante after all those years apart, and his voice was raspy and calm and not like him at all. Somehow that made Rocinante even more uneasy and wary of his brother.  
  


Rocinante wished he was able to say no.   
  
He wished he did not hate his brother, that there was still some love for Doflamingo left.   
  
But he did.

 

He did hate Doflamingo, and part of Rocinante cursed himself for this; maybe it was the part that had been Corazón for all these years,or maybe it was the little brother that was hidden so deep inside Rocinante's heart, the little brother who was still so desperately clinging to the hope that his big brother would come back to him, that everything would be alright again...  
  
“Yes.” Rocinante said, and his voice was dry and steady and without fear. He was not crying.“I do.”

  
Rocinante had spent a long time planning the defeat of his brother. He had risked his life to make sure that Doflamingo would end up behind bars. He had dedicated himself to the task of stopping his brother.   
  
Rocinante had had enough time to think about his feelings for his brother. He had come to the conclusion that there was nothing left but anger and sadness, which over the years had turned into a dull feeling of emptiness. Maybe the easiest way to describe this feeling was, indeed,  the word hate.

 

“Good. “ There was no sadness to be heard in Doflamingo's voice as reached out with one gloved hand. It seemed he either did not care about those words or had expected the answer already.   
  
To Rocinante it almost appeared as if Doflamingo was glad about Rocinante's answer, as if it made things so much easier for him.

 

Rocinante wondered if, maybe, Doflamingo had really cared about Rocinante and his feelings once, all those years back before Doflamingo had heard of Rocinante's betrayal. All those years ago, where Doflamingo had believed his baby brother had come back to his side. If, maybe, there had been a time where Doflamingo would have been truly hurt by those words.

 

And Rocinante wondered, for one short moment, if a different answer would have changed anything.

 

 _No_ , Rocinante thought while looking at his brother, _he never cared about anything but himself_.  
  
Doflamingo had been a monster back then, he was a monster still. In that matter nothing had changed at all. At least that was what Rocinante told himself. It made this whole thing a lot more bearable.  
  
There was the gun of a fallen pirate next to Rocinante on the ground, but he would not reach it in time. Other weapons were too far away. There was no proper way to defend himself. Doflamingo was fast, his strings unforgiving.

 

Rocinante turned his head to look over the battlefield one last time and his throat felt so tight that it was difficult to breath. He saw Crocodile in the distance, fighting alongside Daz, and suddenly Rocinante heart grew heavy. It kind of felt like a silent goodbye. He wondered if Crocodile would be sad after hearing about Rocinante's death. Maybe a little.

  
Rocinante turned his head back to Doflamingo and suddenly he had to think of Law. Rocinante would have liked to see him again one last time, but it was better that he was not here today.

 

And while things were not over yet Rocinante knew that it was unlikely that he would win this fight. It did not mean that he would not try to fight back, because he would, no matter what; it just meant that he knew when to accept that his chances were bad, that a plan had failed, that he was outnumbered and overpowered.

 

However, bad chances did not mean that winning was impossible.  
  
It just meant that it was harder.

 

Rocinante jumped forward, reaching for the gun on the ground.

  
Doflamingo did not smile as his fingers twitched to pull at invisible strings.

 

Rocinante did.

* * *

 

  
“Crocodile!”  
  
Someone pulled at his shoulder and Crocodile's head turned around just in time to be shot right between the eyes.   
  
Crocodile rolled his eyes in annoyance. The bullet passed right through him and left him with no harm.  
  
“When will you people learn that there is no point in shooting sand.” Crocodile snarled. There was really no one who was actually listening to him right now though, since the marine soldiers were busy wasting their bullets on him like idiots.  
  
With one swift hand movement the marine soldiers in front of Crocodile were drowned by a wave of sand. He had given them as much attention as any other marine soldiers he had encountered on this battlefield so far; as if they were nothing more than flies that bothered him on a hot day. That was only metaphorically speaking, of course, since Crocodile usually never got bothered by any flies.

 

These marine soldiers were not even amusing to deal with; all they did were shout and scream like some brainless fools, and Crocodile found that soon he was bored of them. He really only stayed here to fight because he was interested in how this war would turn out.   
  
Crocodile wondered what benefits he would gain from all this, if there was anything to be gained at all. And if there was nothing,well...At least he was out of prison. That was a good start for a new business.  
  
“Crocodile!”  
  
Crocodile turned back to face Daz.  
  
“Yes, what is it?” His voice sounded harsher than he had intended to, but that was probably because  he was still annoyed by the soldiers he had had to deal with. They really began to get on his nerves.  
  


“I think we have a problem.” Daz grabbed a marine and threw him so far away that Crocodile actually wondered where the guy would end up. Probably somewhere on the battlefield with little chances of being alive after the impact.

  
“And that would be?” Crocodile raised his hand and stopped another two marines in their attempt to shot Daz from behind by squishing them with a giant fist made out of sand. At least he was able to use his powers again, something that was actually quite enjoyable.   
  


“Doflamingo,” Daz answered shortly, and punched a man.

 

Crocodile had not heard anything of Doflamingo in a while. Doflamingo was someone who came and left without a warning, and it was hard to tell what was going on side Doflamingo's head.   
  
Crocodile had first met Doflamingo when Doflamingo had been seventeen and young and different from the man that Crocodile met again years later. Doflamingo rarely spoke during business meetings, sometimes he did not appear at all. It was usually his right hand man Corazón that did the talking for him. Crocodile did not know much about Corazón either, but Rocinante had told him once that the man's name was Vergo. Rocinante had said nothing else about him,though.  
  
Rocinante had never liked to talk about his brother or the crew and Crocodile had respected that, and so all Crocodile knew about Doflamingo was rumours and stories that had been told by others.

 

One thing Crocodile knew for certain was that Doflamingo was a dangerous man, and that if he had not been caught by Tsuru all these years ago things would be very different from how they were right now. For the better or the worse was hard to tell.

 

“What about him?” Crocodile asked. He made an elegant gesture with his hand and several marine soldiers screamed in agony as sand filled their lungs. Then he punched a man in the face with his hook. Crocodile could not help the satisfied smirk.

 

“It is not him that I am worried about.” Daz stopped and pointed at something in the distance. “It is Rocinante.”  
  
Crocodile stopped as well. He turned, his eyes directed at the spot that Daz was pointing to.  
  
And, for the first time in a very long time, Crocodile suddenly found it difficult to breath.  
  
“I think Doflamingo is going to kill him.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos! I am glad to see people read and like this story


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